Worn

Consider yourself on the tip of my tongue Daring to be told and toxic to taste To swallow the words and account as waste Would injure my mouth until it grew numb Notice me residing under your thumb Violently push and crush me into paste Scrape the remains to colour me effaced Thriving under fingernails among scum I mill with edges to form an indent And fashion your flesh so I can sprawl Dismiss me when your pressed palms repent In spite of deep seeping cuts that I crawl Richly I’ll recall this as time well spent To be caressing your bare skin at all